Down Among The Dead
by dnachemlia
Summary: McGee disappears while working on a cold case. Can the team find him before it is too late? Warning: Disturbing subject matter.
1. Prologue

Title: Down Among the Dead

Story: NCIS

Rating: T– Gen

Genre: Supernatural/suspense

Warnings: Disturbing images and subject matter.

Set in mid Season 7

Summary: McGee disappears while working on a cold case. Can the team find him before it is too late?

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda.

* * *

Prologue

Tim McGee awoke with a start and groaned as his body protested the abrupt change in consciousness. He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision, but the darkness surrounding him did not lessen so he began to take stock of the situation using his other senses.

He was laying on a hard, cold, rough textured surface which he suspected was concrete. The air around him was cool and damp, and there was a distinct odor of decay emanating from somewhere nearby. He raised a hand over his head and did not meet any resistance, so he slowly sat up, clenching his teeth as the pain in his head grew worse and he felt bile riles in his throat.

_Concussion. Wonderful_.

He choked down his nausea and stretched his arms out to the side, trying to determine the dimensions of the area, but he still encountered nothing. Finally he rolled to the side and attempted to pull himself into a standing position, but dizziness overwhelmed him and he sank back down to the ground. Undeterred, he started to crawl and after a few minutes his reaching hand touched a wall. He dragged his body forward until he was leaning against the wall and sat down, exhausted by the short trip.

_I'm in worse shape than I thought. Where the hell am I?_

He resumed his task of exploring the space and determined that he was in a stone-lined room with several rectangular structures spaced throughout. He wasn't sure of how many, but he encountered at least three of them and they appeared to be made of stone as well.

As he was resting following the first round of exploration, he noticed that the blackness of the room was fading to grey and he saw light appear in a crack far overhead. The faint illumination allowed him to confirm what he had begun to suspect: he was in a burial vault of some sort, possibly a crypt.

Trying to remain calm, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the increased light and he was able to better survey his surroundings. The ceiling of the crypt was at least twelve feet above the floor and the crack was caused by a stone that had apparently shifted at the surface. The stone structures were sarcophagi, eight in all, similar to what one would expect to see in an Old World cathedral. He noted that even if he stood on top of one he would not be able to reach the ceiling.

The door to the crypt was on the far end and after he managed to reach it he found that it was immovable: locked from the outside.

He checked his pockets and discovered that they were completely empty: his cell phone, gun, wallet, ID and even his knife were gone.

Now fighting real panic, McGee struggled to recall how he could have wound up in such a place. Finally, he remembered: the case, now cold but still being pursued by the team; going to interview a potential witness, and then…nothing.

A horrible thought struck him and he struggled to his feet. He reached the closest sarcophagus and, with supreme effort, he managed to push back the stone lid. A wave of sickening smells assaulted him and the sight of what lay within caused him to recoil in disgust. He moved to the next sarcophagus and opened it as well as a growing feeling of fear caused his stomach to twist. He now had a very good idea of where he was: the dumping ground of a serial killer, one whose victims, despite the best efforts of several law enforcement agencies, had never been found.

McGee sank to the floor as he realized his worst fear: it was now quite likely that he would become a victim himself.

* * *

Sound interesting? Please let me know what you think.


	2. Chapter 1

Thanks to everyone who responded to this story! Now for the next chapter which explains how McGee wound up where he is in the _Prologue_ (lots of exposition, sorry about that).

* * *

Title: Down Among the Dead

Story: NCIS

Rating: T– Gen

Genre: Supernatural/suspense

Warnings: Disturbing images and subject matter.

Set in mid Season 7

Summary: McGee disappears while working on a cold case. Can the team find him before it is too late?

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda.

* * *

Chapter 1

_***15 hours earlier***_

"What are you working on, McGee?"

McGee glanced up at Ziva before returning his attention to the computer screen as he answered his teammate.

"A month-old kidnapping case: Aileen Bartlett."

"I remember that case. The seven-year-old daughter of a Marine sergeant disappeared on her way home from school. She missed the bus and apparently decided to walk home, but never made it. No witnesses or evidence."

"Yeah. No ransom requests, no issues with custody, nothing suspicious in the backgrounds of the family, friends, neighbors or teachers. NCIS, FBI, and state and local police all participated in the search for her, and turned up absolutely nothing. Frustrating as Hell."

"I remember that, too. Gibbs was particularly difficult while we were actively working the case."

"Not surprising, considering the victim."

"No, I suppose not. And he will not let it go, either. What have you found?"

"I cross checked all recent cases before, but I didn't find any similar victim profiles in the last two years. So now, I went back further and turned up two cases that were slightly similar: both girls were seven years old, with long brown hair and brown eyes, but they disappeared from completely different areas and had very different family backgrounds. Neither of the cases was handled by our team. One, Anne Fleming, was from five years ago, and the other, Aurora Ford, was from three and a half years ago. I've been searching through financial records of all three girls' parents and I found one small link: all three of the girls took horseback riding lessons for a month at West Falls Stables near Hagerstown, Maryland."

"Have you expanded the search to other agencies?" asked Ziva as she gazed at the pictures of the three girls on McGee's monitor.

"I have."

"Any other similar cases?"

"More than I really want to think about," said McGee with a grimace. "There are at least two cases that I would like to research further and I've put in the request for the files. If I can find a link for all of them, we might have more to help our case. At least until the FBI figures it out and takes over."

"You believe it is a serial killer."

"Maybe. But to prove the disappearances are connected I need to get something more on the girls than looks and that they obviously loved horses."

"And all their first names start with A."

"Well, yeah, that too." McGee rose from his chair, grabbed his gun and ID from his desk drawer, and snagged his coat from the back of his chair. "I'm going to go talk to the people at the stable to see if they remember any of the other girls on the list, and if they noticed anyone paying special attention to the girls when they were there. I checked the financial records for the parents of other two, but no luck; maybe they paid cash. Still, the place should have some sort of record in their files, but I haven't had any luck finding that anywhere online. They must do things the old-fashioned way."

"Would you like me to join you?"

McGee debated her question for a moment and shook his head. "Nah, it might not amount to anything, and you have your own paperwork to deal with. I've got this one. Besides, one of us has to keep DiNozzo out of trouble." He gave her a half-grin, which she returned.

"I will do my best. Good luck. I hope it is not a snipe hunt. Or is it goose hunt?"

"Goose chase, Ziva. See you later."

* * *

Two hours later, McGee guided the sedan onto the rough gravel driveway that lead to West Falls Stables. After another half-mile, he finally reached the building and parked the car in front of what he guessed was the office, a smaller addition on the side of the main building. When he entered the office the smell of hay, linseed oil and leather hit him and he sneezed, announcing his arrival as the bell on the front door had done just a moment before.

The occupant of the office, a teenager with shaggy blond hair, looked up from the saddle he was repairing and eyed McGee with a hint of annoyance.

"Help you?"

"Yes. I'm Special Agent McGee with NCIS – Naval Criminal Investigative Service-."

"Bit far from the ocean, aren't you?" interrupted the kid, suspicion clear in his tone.

"We investigate crimes involving both Navy and Marine personnel, and their dependents. I'm looking into the disappearances of three children: Aileen Bartlett, Aurora Ford, and Anne Fleming."

"Don't know 'em."

McGee took a deep breath to contain his own annoyance at the rude young man and continued. "They all took riding lessons here for a month. I-."

"Hang on." The teen walked over to the door behind the counter, opened in and yelled. "Mandy, go get Mom. Now!"

"No need to yell," came the loud reply and a few seconds later a younger teenager with curly red hair stuck her head in the office. "What do you need, Michael?"

"This guy needs to know about some customers."

"So look up what he needs to know. It's not _that_ hard."

"Don't you need a warrant or something?" he asked, returning his attention to McGee.

"I'm not suggesting any wrongdoing on the part of your establishment. I'm just asking for a little bit of background information. Come on, wouldn't you like to help?"

"Nope, but Mom probably will, which is why the brat needs to go get her," he snapped, turning to the girl and giving her a full force glare.

"OK, fine. I'll be right back. Sorry my brother is being such a _jerk_, Mister," she apologized before disappearing into the depths of the main building.

Michael went back to his work on the saddle, completely ignoring McGee. McGee wandered around the small room, still keeping his eye on the teen while he waited for the mother to make an appearance. Ten minutes passed before a slightly out of breath middle aged woman entered the office. She had the same curly-red hair as her daughter, and bore a much more pleasant expression than her son currently wore.

"Mrs. Downing? I'm Special Agent Timothy McGee, NCIS. I just need to ask you a few questions about some of your customers. I'm not here to cause you any problems."

"Good to know. What sort of information do you need, Agent McGee?" she asked, her tone even ask she walked past the boy and lightly swatted his arm. "Go help your brother." The boy rolled his eyes and stormed off as she shook her head and addressed McGee. "Sorry about that."

"No problem, ma'am. I'm investigating several disappearances of children from the DC area, three of which were NCIS cases. These three all took riding lessons here for a month, two months before they each disappeared. I was hoping that I could look at your records to see if some of the other girls who disappeared under similar circumstances were also here at some point."

"And you think this is where their kidnapper first spotted them?"

"Possibly. I was also hoping that you might remember if anyone around paid a lot of attention to them when they were here."

"I see a lot of kids go through here, Agent McGee. I don't pay much attention to anything except keeping them from falling off the horses or getting stepped on, but I'll do what I can. What are their names, and when were they here?" She pulled out a large three ring binder and dropped it on top of the counter with a thump.

McGee pulled out his notebook. "The most recent was Aileen Bartlett. She was here four months ago. November of last year. Next is Aurora Ford, and she was here July of 2006. Then Anne Fleming, who was here in November of 2004."

Mrs. Downing sighed. "I'll need to get the older records. Mandy!"

The girl appeared moments later. "Yeah, Mom?"

"I need the box with the records for 2006 and 2004 from storage. Find them and have Mathew bring the up here, please."

"OK," she chirped and disappeared again.

Mrs. Downing sighed and opened the binder. "November…here we are. Yes, Aileen was here every Saturday afternoon for four weeks. She was supposed to sign up for more lessons the following March, when we open back up, but she never did." She paused to think. "I don't remember anyone paying attention to her. Everyone here was with their own kid. Well, except Hank, but I don't even think he was around when she was."

"Hank?"

"Henry Smith, our farrier. He comes by about every two weeks to do checkups, pretty much comes and goes without bothering anyone and I only really talk to him if there's a problem with one of the horses."

"Check ups…on?"

Mrs. Downing smiled. "The horseshoes. He's a blacksmith. You haven't spent much time around horses, have you, Agent McGee?"

"No, not really. So, there's no one else who might have had contact with the girl?"

"Just us. I hope you're not suggesting-?"

"No, ma'am, just being thorough." He was interrupted by the arrival of Mandy and a young man carrying two large boxes. McGee couldn't help but stare at the newcomer: he was easily the largest man McGee had ever seen in his life. 'Mathew' had to be over seven feet tall, having to duck to enter the room, and his broad shoulders filled the doorway when he passed through and deposited the boxes on the counter. He turned to stare at McGee and the agent was shocked to see the curious but innocent expression of a child in the giant's features. Mathew smiled shyly and bowed his head before retreating.

"I know what you're thinking, Agent McGee," said Mrs. Downing with an edge to her voice, "but Mathew would never hurt anyone. He might be mentally slow, but he is the gentlest person you will ever meet."

"I understand, ma'am." McGee gave her his sincerest smile, which she eventually returned before opening one of the boxes.

"Ah, here we go. Yep, same thing for Aurora. She was here for a month, and was supposed to sign up for more lessons after the school year started. She was here on Wednesday mornings." She opened the other box and searched through the files before pulling out another folder. "And here is Anne…Annie, I remember her father called her Annie. Huh, amazing the little things we remember, isn't it? Anyway, she was just like Aileen, except she was here on Friday evenings. Anyone else?"

"Well, I have two more cases that might be connected, but I don't know for certain." He gave her a slightly embarrassed smile. "I guess you'll have to pull more records."

"No problem. Any idea when they might have been here?"

"Well, if it was the same as the others…Alyssa Crawford disappeared at the end of June of 2005, so March of that year? And Andrea Harris disappeared in August of 2008, so check in May of that year."

"Mandy-."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Be right back," the girl responded from the other room. A few minutes later she reappeared with Mathew in tow. He gave McGee a longer look this time before backing away, but he did not leave.

McGee gave the man a hesitant smile and received a bright and happy grin in return.

"Hi," said Mathew, apparently having overcome his shyness. "Who are you?"

"Mathew, don't bother Agent McGee."

"Agent?"

"He's like a police officer," explained Mandy, ignoring the glare from her mother. "He's looking for missing girls who were here to ride the horses."

"Oh. Which…which ones?"

After receiving a nod from Mrs. Downing, McGee showed Mathew the pictures of the girls. He looked them over carefully and pointed to Aileen's picture.

"She rode Blackjack." He then pointed to Aurora. "Diamond Jim. Maybelle… Maverick… and Hazel." He said, after pointing at each of the other girls. He smiled slightly. "Michael always gets that one wrong. He calls her 'Hazmat'."

"Mathew always remembers who everyone rides. He had a really good memory for that sort of thing," added Mandy.

"And he's right. Alyssa was here in March of 2005, four weeks, here on Tuesday evenings. Andrea was here in May of 2008, also for four weeks, on Monday evenings. Looks like you were right, too, Agent McGee.

McGee smiled and nodded, wondering how he would be able to politely end the interview so he could get back and start checking into the other cases. Then he noticed the puzzled look on Mathew's face as he looked at the pictures again.

"They're with the angels," Mathew said softly.

"The angels?"

"I think that means he thinks they're…d-e-a-d," said Mandy, obviously trying not to upset her brother. "He thinks if cops show a picture of someone, then…"

"I understand. Thank you, Mathew. You've been very helpful." He gave the younger man a sincere smile and received another in return before turning back to Mrs. Downing. He was relieved to see that she was no longer glaring but instead was giving him a grateful look. "Is there anything else that you remember about them, ma'am?"

"I'm afraid not. I hope this helps you, Agent McGee."

"I hope so as well. If you do think of anything else, don't hesitate to call." He handed her his card and left the office, going over what he would follow up with after he got back to the office as he opened the door to the sedan and got inside.

The sun was sinking below the tree line as he headed back down the rough driveway and turned back onto the main road. After he had gone a few hundred yards he noticed a flash of white in the trees and slowed, staring into the forest. He saw a faded sign hanging crookedly from a post and stopped to verify what he thought he had initially seen:

_**Our Lady of the Angels **_

_I wonder…_

Beyond the sign were an old iron fence and a path that led further into the trees. Near the end of the path, barely visible from the road was a pair of statures: life-sized angels, their heads bowed as if in prayer.

_Don't blink_, McGee though to himself with a slight smirk before climbing out of his car for a closer look. His thoughts turned serious again as he remembered what Mathew had said.

'_They're with the angels'…maybe he saw something after all, something he couldn't understand. Wouldn't hurt to check…_

McGee pushed the gate open and walked down the path. When he reached the statues, he saw, further back in the woods, the remains of a building and several tombstones.

_Must be an old church._

He caught another flash of white out of the corner of his eye and turned. Nothing moved, but he could see more tombstones and what looked like the flat stone cover of a crypt. Curious, he moved deeper into the old burial ground. He reached the stone and saw that it was just a large, flat grave marker. He looked around, noticed that the light was really starting to fade, and tuned to head back.

_Should probably bring the team out here, just in case…_

A twig snapped behind him and before he could turn, something slammed into the back of his head and he fell away into the darkness.

* * *

A/N: Why, yes, that was a _Doctor Who_ reference you saw (from the episode _Blink_). I just couldn't help myself, as usual.

Please let me know what you think. Reviews are always appreciated (and answered if you don't post anonymously!)


	3. Chapter 2

Thanks to all who reviewed and added to their alerts!

This chapter gets seriously disturbing. You've been warned.

* * *

Title: Down Among the Dead

Story: NCIS

Rating: T– Gen

Genre: Supernatural/suspense

Warnings: Disturbing images, subject matter and language.

Set in mid Season 7

Summary: McGee disappears while working on a cold case. Can the team find him before it is too late?

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda.

* * *

Chapter 2

A loud scraping sound echoed through the crypt and McGee looked up in surprise as the door started to open. He rose to his feet, unsure of what he would be facing, but preparing himself to fight. When the door opened all to way to reveal the intruder his eyes widened in shock. The man was big, probably five inches taller and eighty pounds heavier than himself. The man looked around the room before his gaze finally rested on McGee and he smiled.

"I see you've met some of my girls, Agent McGee."

_Oh crap…_

McGee's heart was racing, but he tried to remain outwardly calm. Before he could respond to the killer's statement the man continued speaking as he stepped into the crypt and pushed the door shut behind him.

"Only two of them, though, I see."

Finally McGee found his voice. "But not the other three." He wanted the man to know he was on to him.

"Three? Looks like you missed a couple in your research, Agent McGee. There are _seven_ so far. Perhaps I should formally introduce you?"

McGee felt a twist in his gut. _Seven? _So far_? Oh, God…_

The killer smirked and pointed to the sarcophagus in the far corner on his right.

"Little Annie, five years ago this month. Her name means 'favored by God', did you know that? I guess she was named wrong… She was my first and she gave me a real taste for it. So beautiful, so soft…and she screamed _so_ pretty for me."

McGee felt the bile rise in his throat and clenched his teeth, determined not to show weakness as the man continued, pointing to the sarcophagus on the other side of the crypt.

"Then Alyssa, almost four months later. Her name means 'the sane one', but I guarantee you, she wasn't when I got done with her. Then again, she didn't live long enough to mind…

"Next was Aurora, meaning 'dawn'," he said, indicating the next closest stone structure on his right. "I was over a year and a half since my first. It was so hard, waiting so long for the right opportunity, but you know what they say about anticipation? Too bad she didn't last 'til dawn," he grinned.

"Why? Why would you do this?" asked McGee through his teeth. He was trying to distract the man, waiting for an opportunity to escape or at least gain the upper hand. The killer turned his attention back to McGee before swiftly drawing a pistol and pointing it at the agent, his grin quickly fading.

"Don't even think about it. As for me, why? Well, I'll get to that. Now for the rest of them." He pointed to the next structure on his left. "Ashlynn, my little dream, six months later. She was a feisty one at first, but she ended up like all the rest. I took my time with her, just to teach her a lesson. She screamed even louder than Annie…

"Then there was Alexis, over a year later. She was a challenge, let me tell you. A defender, she was named well. She even managed to inflict some damage. I made her suffer for it."

McGee tried to block out the hateful voice, but nothing worked. Still vigilant, he waited for an opening to take this sick bastard down, but the man seemed to read his thoughts as grinned.

"Give it up, Agent McGee, and let me finish my story. My sixth was Andrea, nine months later, another well named little dear. She was strong for her size, gave me a real workout. I enjoyed it so much…

"Finally, a year and a half later, there was Aileen. My little 'light of the sun', which, of course, she never saw again. She wasn't supposed to be next, but my preferred target managed to slip through my fingers. Don't worry. I'm still planning on getting sweet little Aimee. Maybe I'll bring her by for you to see my work first hand."

McGee couldn't take it any longer. He had seen some demented individuals during his years with NCIS, but this guy…

"You sick son of a bitch…"

For the first time, the killer showed anger. He stormed over to McGee and backhanded him across the face. McGee fell to the ground and barely managed to keep from crying out. The man's hand had hit him with the force of a sledgehammer and his vision clouded from the pain.

"Don't talk about my mother like that, Agent McGee. Ever."

McGee covered his pain with a humorless smile and looked up at the man with hatred in his eyes. "You've kidnapped a federal agent this time. You have no idea what you're dealing with."

The man stared down at McGee, a predatory gleam in his eye. "You think you can take me, you scrawny little spit-fuck? Bring it."

McGee shook his head. "My boss is going to be looking for me, and then you. You'll have nowhere to hide from him…"

"The famous Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" the killer asked with a smirk. "Oh trust me, he's already handled. Him _and_ your team. Your little intrusion has kept me busier than a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest."

McGee felt as though his veins had suddenly been filled with ice water. "What did you do to them?"

"_To_ them? Nothing. I don't really get off on killing adults, Agent McGee. I just meant they won't be looking for you, at least not here."

"What…?"

"Your team won't be looking for you, because they think you're already dead. By your own hand."

"You-!" McGee tried to rise but the man delivered a hard kick to his stomach and he collapsed in agony.

"Really not so far from the truth, is it, Agent McGee? You wanted to know why I'm doing this? Because I enjoy it. It's _fun_. Just like it would be fun watching your team tear themselves apart, wondering what they did to drive you over the brink. Unfortunately I won't get to see it. I have other plans."

McGee couldn't even get the strength to respond as he curled inward, trying to relieve the pain. He heard the man chuckle and then his footsteps as he retreated.

"Enjoy your stay, Agent McGee."

He heard the door open and shut again and closed his eyes, a smile ghosting across his features. The countdown had started.

_Not as smart as you think you are, you bastard. I just hope I have enough time left for the team to figure it out…_

* * *

Gibbs stepped out of the elevator, coffee in hand, and walked towards his desk. Tony and Ziva were already engrossed in their daily paperwork, but Gibbs was surprised to see that the fourth desk was empty.

"Where's McGee?"

Tony and Ziva both looked over at the desk, obviously surprised by the agent's absence as well. Tony was the first to answer.

"No idea, boss. Maybe down with Abby? He was gone when I got here."

"He was not here when I arrived. I do not believe he had been here yet." Ziva picked up her phone and dialed a number, listened, and hung up the phone. "He is not answering his home phone." She dialed another number and listened again. "His cell number is going directly to voicemail."

Before Gibbs could respond, he was interrupted by the arrival of the director as he strode into the bullpen.

"Who was the last person to see McGee yesterday?" Vance asked without preamble.

"I was, director," replied Ziva. "He was leaving to go question someone regarding a cold case. He did not return before I left for the day."

"Where?"

"Hagerstown…a riding stable."

"What's going on, Leon?" Gibbs stepped in front of the director and looked him in the eye, trying to get a read on what the man was hiding.

"McGee checked out one of the sedans yesterday afternoon and did not return it. This morning it was found at Sandy Point State Park."

"That's a long way from Hagerstown," observed Tony. "Wait, _it_ was found? What about McGee?"

"McGee's wallet, badge, ID, and cell phone were on the front seat, along with a note."

"A note? McGeek was _abducted_?"

"No. From what I understand, the note was from McGee. Gibbs, we need your team on the scene. Immediately."

Suddenly everything became clear, and Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. "No, I don't believe that for a minute, Leon." He turned to the rest of his team. Ziva was staring at Director Vance in shock, while Tony's face displayed the anxiety that Gibbs himself felt but held in check.

"Wait, are you saying that he…? Oh, no, no way, not Probie…"

"Agent David, what was McGee's state of mind when he left yesterday?"

"He was…he was fine, Director. Normal. I mean, he has gotten much better at controlling his emotions, but I think I would have known if-."

"Grab your gear," growled Gibbs. "Let's figure out what the hell really happened."

Ziva and Tony scrambled to retrieve their backpacks and followed Gibbs to the elevator.

* * *

With Gibbs behind the wheel, they made it to the park in near record time. The two younger agents remained silent for almost the entire trip, unable to accept or even discuss what might have happened to their teammate. Gibbs ran through the events of the last few days in his mind, trying to figure out if he had missed that something was wrong with his junior agent. He came up with nothing, further convincing him that this was all a mistake.

When they reached the scene, they showed their badges to the state police deputies and ducked under the crime scene tape. The sedan was parked near the Bay Bridge, almost in its shadow. Several crime scene techs were standing around, obviously waiting to hand off the scene to NCIS.

"Agent Gibbs?" A tall, light skinned African American woman called as she approached the team and held out her hand. "I'm Detective Sergeant Grace Chapman. I understand this was one of your people?"

"What have you found?" asked Gibbs, shaking the proffered hand briefly.

"Down here, just the car. No impressions or trace around it. Inside we found a wallet and a NCIS badge with ID for Special Agent Timothy McGee. Those were bagged and tagged, along with the cell phone. We also found a note, typewritten, including the signature. A scan with the ALS indicated that there were prints, and we preserved everything for analysis back at the lab."

"What did it say?" asked Ziva, finally breaking the silence she had maintained since they had left NCIS.

"I'll show you." She led them over to the staging area and retrieved the evidence bag with the note.

_TOO MUCH. I'M SORRY. GOODBYE._

_MCGEE._

"Wow," muttered Tony. "You'd think he'd have more to say." He flinched when he received a cold glare from Gibbs. "Was there anything else?"

"We broadened the search to the rest of the park and to the bridge, where we found this." She opened a flat box to reveal a handgun, a SIG Sauer P226. "Is this what you guys carry?" Tony nodded, obviously unable to tear his gaze away from the box. "We also found a 9 mm cartridge casing in the same area." She held up a clear plastic jar with the casing. "Same ammo, too?" Tony nodded again.

"Was it recently fired?" asked Gibbs, trying to quell the worry that was working its way through his mind.

"Looks like it. We have a search team out with divers checking the area below where we found the gun. We haven't been able to find any witness, but I don't think I need to tell you how this looks, Agent Gibbs. I'm very sorry."

"Thanks. We'll take it from here, Detective Sergeant. DiNozzo, take care of the transfer of evidence. David, get the rest of the documentation. I'll go talk to the search crews."

"Boss…"

"Just do your job, DiNozzo. We need to get this back to the lab and figure out exactly what happened. We at least owe him that much."

* * *

_***later that evening***_

"What do you have for me, Abby?"

When he didn't receive a response from the hunched figure sitting in front of the lab computer, Gibbs walked up to her and touched her shoulder.

"Abbs?"

"Have they found him, Gibbs?" Her voice was subdued and rough from crying.

"No, they haven't, Abby. They had to stop for the night, but they'll be back at it first thing tomorrow morning." He put an arm around her shoulder. "It will be OK, Abbs."

"How can you say that? How can _anything_ be OK, when Tim is gone?" She turned to face him. "Tell me we're going to get the bastards that did this, Gibbs."

"Abby…"

"No, don't say it. I don't believe for one second that McGee would…that he would…well he just _wouldn't!_"

"The evidence says-."

"_I don't care!"_

Gibbs stepped back, surprised by her vehemence.

"I don't _care_ that his fingerprints are on the note. I don't _care_ that the note was typed on his typewriter. I don't _care_ that the gun was his and the cartridge had his fingerprints on it, and…" She reached the end of her endurance and collapsed into Gibbs' arms. He held her as she quietly sobbed. "Tim wouldn't do this to us, Gibbs. He just _wouldn't_."

"I know, Abbs, but—."

"No buts, Gibbs. He wouldn't. And I'm going to prove it." She sat up and turned her attention to the images on her computer. "I'm going to prove it even if it's the last thing I do."

Gibbs stood back and watched her work for a few minutes before he turned and walked out of the lab.

He hadn't expected anything less.

* * *

When he was finally able to move, McGee used the remains of the daylight to study his prison. He carefully searched the entire room, only to conclude that there was absolutely no way to escape. Finally, exhausted and thirstier than he had been since his experience in Somalia, he collapsed with his back to the empty sarcophagus. As the light faded and the room was once again shrouded in darkness, he sent up a silent request to whoever might be listening.

_Please let them figure it out soon. We need to catch this guy before he kills again. Please…_

He closed his eyes and eventually succumbed to the pull of sleep, never noticing the pair of inquisitive eyes focused on him, watching him from the darkness.

* * *

A/N: Reviews are always appreciated. More to come after I get some work done on my other fics. Good thing there's a four-day weekend coming up. Woo!


	4. Chapter 3

Title: Down Among the Dead

Story: NCIS

Rating: T– Gen

Genre: Supernatural/suspense

Warnings: Disturbing images, subject matter and language.

Set in mid Season 7

Summary: McGee disappears while working on a cold case. Can the team find him before it is too late?

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda.

* * *

Chapter 3

The faintest hint of red tinged the horizon as Tony paused to look out across the expanse of water to his left. He fought the urge to yell in frustration, knowing it wouldn't do him any good to waste his energy on such an effort.

He had spent the day before with the state police as part of the search and recovery team, hoping to find McGee's body. Tony had worked hard to maintain his composure and cooperate with the search team, despite the fact that he wholeheartedly disagreed with their assumptions. Even though suicides are initially investigated as homicides, the consensus among the state cops seemed to be that, in this case, the former was a foregone conclusion. Tony, on the other hand, knew that there was no way McGee would have committed suicide, especially not in the manner the evidence suggested. Tony knew his Probie well enough to know that. Unfortunately, it didn't mean _something_ hadn't happened to McGee up on that bridge, and Tony, based on long experience, expected the worst. He knew if they could find the body, there would be no doubt as to the manner of McGee's demise, and determining the ultimate cause of it would lead the MCRT team to the bastard that had taken one of its members.

When search had been called off at dusk, Tony had gone back to NCIS to start another search, this time of the case records, looking for someone who had a reason to go after the younger agent. A review of their recent cases produced no likely suspects and he had been ready to go back further when Vance had ordered them all to go home, even Gibbs. After several protests which failed to sway the Director, he and the rest of the MCRT had left.

After several hours of failed attempts at sleep, Tony had gone back out to the park and started his own search. The lone officer guarding the site had given Tony a sympathetic look when he arrived, but his words hadn't helped.

"_You know, with the currents they way they are, he could be to Point Lookout by now. The Bay doesn't like to give up her dead."_

Tony had ignored him and made his way to the shore of the Bay where he had spent the early hours of the morning searching, looking for signs of his teammate.

After his brief break to study the Bay itself, he turned his attention back to the beach and caught sight of a dark, man-sized shape laying at the edge of the water. His breath caught in his throat as he ran towards the shape, sick at the thought of what he might find, but when he got closer he saw that his fears were unjustified: it was a large piece of driftwood. He stopped, sighed, and shook his head. It was time for a break, as much as he hated to admit it. He checked his watch and saw that he had just enough time to get cleaned up and back to NCIS. As he took one last look at the shore, the distant rumble of thunder and the now red sky reminded him of the old sailors' caution.

"_Red sky at morning, sailors take warning." Yeah, take warning. Whoever did this had __**better**__ be warned, because I'm __**not**__ stopping until we find him._

He turned and walked back to his car, barely making it before the first drops of rain started to fall.

XXX

_*drip* *drip* *drip*_

McGee awoke with a start. He blinked and looked around, letting out a small groan as the injuries he had incurred the previous day caught up with him. The room was still dark but the faint light from the crack in the ceiling was beginning to filter in.

_*drip* *drip* *drip*_

He tried to identify the source of the sound and realized that water was dripping down from the ceiling. Suddenly, his thirst made itself known and he licked his dry lips as he crawled forward to find the spot where the water was hitting the floor. He found a damp spot and looked up as a drop of water hit his face. Sighing in relief, he opened his mouth to catch the drops. The water tasted awful, and he didn't want to think about what else was in it. He was just grateful for something to abate his thirst.

It took a long time until he had managed to get enough water to relieve some of his discomfort, and by the time he was finished the room had grown light enough to see at least some of it.

_There has to be some way out. I know I checked everything yesterday, but maybe I missed something? Maybe if I stand on one of the…coffins._

He forced himself not to think about what was inside as he climbed up on top of the sarcophagus that was closest to the crack in the ceiling. He stood on the stone cover and looked up, trying to find a weak spot. If nothing else, he could make a bigger hole that maybe someone would notice. He knew he couldn't reach the ceiling standing, but if he jumped, maybe…

_I need to be careful. If I fall…_

He made sure he was in the center before preparing himself. He took a deep breath and jumped, stretching his hands to wards the ceiling.

He missed by two feet.

Shaken, he prepared to try again, but before he could make his attempt, he was brought to a halt by a voice that came from the far corner of the crypt.

XXX

Ziva glanced up from her computer when Tony arrived, looking like he hadn't slept in days. She knew the feeling as sleep had escaped her as well. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on her mind and she had spent a restless night, wondering if it was possible that she had missed something. McGee had seemed perfectly normal when he left. She went over their last conversation in her head, trying to find some hint of trouble but it proved to be a fruitless exercise. She had come to the conclusion that whatever had happened to McGee, it was not of his own doing. Like Tony, she expected the worst.

She had arrived at work just before dawn to resume the searches she had started late yesterday, after she and Gibbs had completed a search of McGee's apartment and she had searched what personal records of his she could access.

She was trying to reconstruct what McGee had done in the case he had gone to investigate before he disappeared since she believed that case might hold the key to what had happened. She needed to know so that she could avenge their friend, to make sure the one who had taken him from them was caught.

"Find anything?"

She looked up at Tony and shook her head.

"No. You?"

"Driftwood."

"Drift…wood?"

"Never mind. I guess I'll have to wait until Gibbs gets here before I get back to the search and recovery team. One of us needs to be there when…they find Probie."

Ziva could see the pain that Tony was trying to hide, but she also knew he wouldn't accept comfort, not until the case was resolved.

She glanced over at McGee's desk and sighed. "I cannot believe this happened to McGee."

"Yeah, I know." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Should have been me, right? I'm the one with enemies."

"Tony, do not do this."

"Why not?"

"Because it will not help."

Tony's response was cut off by the ringing of Gibbs' desk phone. They both stared at it for a moment before Tony moved to answer it.

"Gibbs' desk."

"_Tony, find Gibbs and all of you get down here, now!"_

"Abby? What do you-?"

"_Just get here."_ She hung up and Tony looked at the phone for a few seconds before returning it to its cradle.

"What did Abby want?"

Tony turned to see the phone's owner walking towards him from the elevator.

"Hey, Boss. She wants us down in the lab, didn't say why."

"Well what are you waiting for?" Gibbs headed back towards the elevator and Tony and Ziva scrambled to follow.

XXX

"Backspatter."

The three members of the MCRT stared at Abby.

"Abby?"

"Backspatter, as in the blood that flies backward from a close contact gunshot wound. There is _no_ backspatter on McGee's gun." She looked at them expectantly. Tony was the first to answer.

"So it wasn't fired from close range, which means-."

"Timmy did _not_ shoot himself." She turned and started to rant. "I can't believe I didn't think of this yesterday. Everyone was so convinced he had, and I…I knew better. And they were wrong. I should have checked sooner. All the 'evidence' was a set up. He never would-."

"Abbs."

"Don't 'Abbs', me, Gibbs. Even you-."

"No, I didn't."

"But…that's what you were doing last night, trying to make me see." Suddenly she hugged him. "Thank you. But now we know. And we-."

"Know that it was a homicide."

Tony and Gibbs glared at Ziva as Abby suddenly deflated.

"No…no, we don't know he's dead. They haven't found him, he could still be-."

She was interrupted by a ding on her computer. They all turned to look at the message box that had popped up: _1 message from t_mcgee._ Abby immediately reached for the keyboard but was stopped by Tony.

"Are you sure you should open that? It might be-."

"Already scanned. McGee…we set up enough protections to prevent anything like that getting through." She clicked on the box and her email program popped up. "Looks like it contains a video file." She turned to them with an uncertain look. "I don't know if I can watch this."

"Play it, Abbs." Gibbs put an arm around her shoulder and she turned back to the computer with determination. She opened the video file and a new window popped up, revealing an image of McGee. They knew right away that this wasn't a recent video. McGee's face was rounder than it had been for months, and they could still see evidence of the injuries he had received during Ziva's rescue from Somalia. They watched in silence as McGee started to speak.

"_Hey, Abby. You remember you told me once that if something happened to me, you'd want to know, that you hated not knowing, so…here we go. If you're watching this, it means something has happened. You probably realized that already, since I'm setting up a program to send this video to you in the event that I do no access the program for 48 hours. So I'm either missing, which hopefully means you're already working on finding me, or I'm…gone for good. In either case, I wanted to let you know it was not my choice. I'm pretty sure you'd know that already, but in case anyone else was in doubt, this is the answer."_

"I did know, Timmy. I did," Abby whispered. The others could only nod silently.

"_I also figured that when you got this, you'd tell everyone else, so I guess I'm talking to the team, too. I just wanted to say that whatever happened, I know you guys will figure it out, and you'll make sure that whoever is responsible is caught. If you've already found me, and I'm still alive, thank you, and you can skip the rest of this video." _He paused, as if he was waiting for them to make a choice._ "If you didn't find me, or didn't find me in time, then I guess this is my only opportunity to say goodbye. It… it was a pleasure and an honor to work with all of you…yeah, Tony, even you."_ He smirked slightly. _"Thank you for everything you taught me, and for letting me do the job I've always wanted to do."_

"You're welcome, Tim," said Gibbs in a low voice. Tony and Ziva could only nod, unable to find their voices.

"_Abby, I know you know this deep down, but I need to say it for the record. You're my friend, and I care about you…more than just how I care about puppies."_ A sad smile crossed his face. _"I just wanted you to know that."_

Abby let out a soft sob and bowed her head as Gibbs' arm tightened around her shoulder in comfort. On the video, McGee cleared his throat.

"_So I guess this is goodbye. I'm sorry I couldn't say it in person, to all of you, but I guess this is better than nothing, right?"_ He reached for something, apparently to stop the video, and paused to look back. _"Oh, and if, uh, if you do find me after you watch this, and I'm okay, you can just…forget you saw this last part, OK? OK, right. Thank you. Goodbye."_

The video ended and they stared at the screen until the silence was broken by Gibbs.

"You heard him. Let's figure this out. You OK, Abbs?"

"Ask me when you find him, Gibbs. I…I'll let you know." He kissed her on the cheek and turned to the others.

"Tony, Ziva, grab your gear. We're going to Hagerstown."

XXX

"What are you doing?"

McGee was so startled he almost fell. He turned toward the source of the voice and saw, standing in the shadows, a little girl. She looked to be about seven or eight, had long brown hair, and was dressed in a red plaid skirt and white blouse. It was too dark to see her face, but he got the impression that she was more curious than frightened.

He glanced at the door to the crypt and saw that it was still shut tight, but he was certain he would have heard if it opened. He doubted a girl her size could have opened it anyway, so how did she get in?

_This is impossible_, he thought. _I checked everywhere. I couldn't have missed another entrance, could I?_ _I must have. Maybe I really __**am**__ in worse shape than I thought. Or maybe it's not obvious from inside._ He looked around again and still saw no evidence of how this girl had gotten in. _I guess I'll have to ask her._ He climbed down and crouched so he was on her level and non-threatening, and adjusted his voice to sound calm and friendly.

"Hey. I was trying to find a way out. I've been looking for awhile, but I guess I missed something. How did _you_ get in here?"

"Are you alive?"

He almost laughed_. Yeah, I don't imagine she was expecting to find a __**living**__ person down here among the dead._

"Yes, I'm alive. You don't need to be afraid of me, I promise. But please, tell me, how did you get down here? And how do I get out?"

"_You_ can't."

"What? Why not?"

She didn't answer but stepped closer and when the light reached her face, McGee felt his heart stutter in his chest. He _recognized_ this girl. Her picture surfaced in his mind and there was no question as to who she was.

It was Anne Fleming, the first little girl to vanish over five years ago, four months before her eighth birthday.

His recognition was not what had McGee staring at her in horror. What did was the fact that she still looked exactly like her picture.

She still looked seven years old.


	5. Chapter 4

Warnings: Disturbing images, subject matter and language.

Set in mid Season 7

Disclaimer: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda.

Trying to update my old fics lately. It's a slow process.

* * *

Chapter 4

The strength suddenly left McGee's legs and he fell backwards, landing on his butt with a soft thump. He stared up at the image of the little girl, who appeared to be watching him with mild curiosity, and seriously questioned his own hold on reality.

_Impossible…I'm dreaming, or maybe that guy hit me a lot harder than I thought…_

He closed his eyes and shook his head, willing the hallucination to vanish, but when he opened his eyes again he could still see her.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Her expression showed concern, and McGee gave an automatic response, conditioned by years of "man-it-up" mentality by which he had been surrounded since an early age.

"N-nothing."

"Why are you here?"

"I, uh…" He struggled to complete a coherent thought. "Someone…dumped me down here."

"Oh," she replied, and McGee could have sworn he saw a flash of sympathy in her dark eyes. "What's your name?"

"Tim…McGee."

"Hi, Tim. I'm Annie. Annie—"

"—Flemming," McGee finished, almost to himself and her eyes widened.

"You know me?"

"I've, uh…I've been looking for you, actually."

"Oh." She tilted her head to the side and studied him for a brief moment. "You found me. Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because now you can't get out." Sadness clouded her expression. "Not yet, at least."

"Why not…yet?"

"Because you're alive."

McGee's head was aching as he tried to make sense of what he thought he was hearing. _I've finally lost my mind…_

"And you're…?"

She giggled. "I'm not." She noticed his shock and waved both hands in front of her. "But don't worry. I'm just like Casper."

"Casper?"

"The friendly ghost, of course!" She giggled again, obviously amused, but the sound sent chills down McGee's spine. _Yep, I've definitely lost my mind._

Oblivious to his turmoil, she continued. "We can't hurt you, even if we wanted to, and we don't. You're not the bad man." Her expression darkened again, and McGee was sure he felt the temperature drop a few degrees. He gulped.

"No…I'm not the bad man." He took a moment to parse what she had said. "Wait, 'we'?"

"All of us. I've been here the longest, so I talk to the new ones. I've never talked to a grown-up before…well, not down here."

"How…many of you are there?"

"Six. No, seven. Aileen just joined us…I don't know when, but not long ago."

She took another step towards him and McGee barely kept himself from scooting backwards, even though he kept telling himself that what he was seeing and hearing couldn't be real.

"You're hurt." She reached out and touched his face, and McGee felt the patch of skin go cold. He shivered involuntarily and she withdrew. "Sorry."

He decided to try asking once more, hoping his subconscious, if that was what was providing this image, could give him a clue.

"Annie, how do I get out of here?"

She huffed in annoyance. "I've already told you, you can't get out. Not until the bad man opens the door again. Or…"

"Or what?"

"Or until you're like us."

XXX

Gibbs parked the sedan in front of what they guessed was the office, and all three agents climbed out.

"What now, Boss?"

"I'll go talk to the owner. You two see if you can find anyone else that was around when McGee was here. Maybe they noticed something useful."

"On it, Boss."

"Yes, Gibbs."

Ziva and Tony headed for the large building just to the south of the office, and when they reached the first door they both cautiously looked inside. It was a large indoor arena, with stalls lining both sides. Tony indicated that he would check the far stable area, and Ziva proceeded to check the stables closer to the office. When she entered the corridor between the saws, several of the occupants turned to study her with large, dark eyes. The resident of the closest stall, a tall, dark grey beast with a black mane, thrust its nose in her direction and she stepped back, unsure if the gesture was hostile or friendly. It snorted and stared, ears pointed forward, and she took a step forward and held out one hand. The horse nuzzled her palm and she almost laughed when she saw the almost reproachful look it was giving her.

"I have no treat for you, but you will allow me to pass, yes?" It regarded her solemnly and snorted again before withdrawing to the back of its stall and turning its back to her.

Before she could continue down the corridor, she heard footsteps approaching and turned to find a teenager with shaggy blond hair stalking towards her.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded, his tone far from friendly.

"I am sorry, I was looking for—"

"The office is that way," he said, pointing towards the smaller building that Gibbs had entered. "You shouldn't be here by yourself."

"I am not." She pulled out her ID and showed it to the young man. "Agent David, NCIS."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Again? Don't you people have better things to do than bother us?"

"One of us has 'bothered' you before?" she asked, carefully watching his reaction.

"Yeah. A guy with a badge like that stopped by a couple of days ago. He wanted to ask about some customers."

"And what did you tell him?"

"Nothing. My mom talked to him. I had work to do."

Ziva pulled out a picture of McGee. "Was this the man?"

The youth glanced at the picture she held. "Yeah, I guess." His brows crinkled in obvious puzzlement. "Wait, what did he do?"

"What makes you think he has done something?"

"You don't just go showing pictures for fun. Either he did something or—"

"Something has happened to him. He is missing, and this is the last place he is known to have been."

The young man glared at her. "So you think we had something do with him going missing?"

"Did you?"

He scoffed. "No. Do I need to call my lawyer?" he asked mockingly.

Ziva gritted her teeth and drew in a deep breath. "No. Look, we are just trying to trace his movements before he disappeared, and we need to know where he could have gone from here."

"I didn't see him leave, I just heard the car. I was working…like I should be now."

"Why are you not in school?" she asked, trying to get a read on the reason for his attitude, and his demeanor became even surlier.

"Got suspended for three days. I'll be going back tomorrow."

"Why?"

"Fighting."

"So…you have a temper."

The boy sent her a dirty look. "He deserved it."

"Who?"

"The dumb ass jock who was talking shit about my brother."

"And your brother is not able to fend for himself?"

He snorted. "He won't. That doesn't mean anyone has the right to dis him."

"I see…"

"Listen, lady, I already told you: I don't know what happened to that guy. I barely talked to him, alright? Now if you'll excuse me—"

"Yes, I know, you have work to do."

He stomped off, and Ziva decided to go see if Tony was having better luck. As she headed for the other side of the barn, she puzzled over the young man's anger, so easily directed at a stranger…

XXX

Tony cautiously made his way down the corridor which lay between opposite rows of stalls, mostly occupied with a wide array of equine inhabitants. They watched his progress, long ears twitching back and forth, but made no sound at his approach. He stopped to examine one of the animals, a large bay with a white stripe on its nose, and smirked when he read the name on the stall. "_Maverick_. Classic show or not-so-classic movie?" He shook his head and turned, only to come face to face with a solid wall of plaid. He looked up towards the face above that wall, _far_ above, and involuntarily took a step back as he took in the image of the largest man he had ever seen in his life.

"Hi. Who are you?"

The giant's voice was deep, as expected, but had a child-like quality that matched the open and innocent expression on the man's face. Tony took a moment to process the incongruity before he could respond.

"I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo." A look of confusion crossed the man's face and Tony winced. This was not going to be easy. "You can call me Tony."

The child-like smile returned. "I'm Mathew. That's Maverick," he said, pointing to the occupant of the stall behind Tony. "He likes sugar cubes, if you have any. Or potato chips."

"Uh, sorry. I don't have any on me."

"That's OK." Mathew reached into the pocket of his overalls and offered Tony a couple of small white lumps.

"No thanks." Tony could have sworn he saw a rather hurt look cross Mathew's face before the man offered the lumps to Maverick instead and turned back to Tony.

"Mama is in the office. You need to see her before you can ride. Are you going to ride Maverick? He's a good horse."

"I'll take your word for it." Another puzzled look crossed Mathew's face and Tony decided he'd better get to the point. "But maybe you can help me."

The smile returned. "I'll try."

Tony pulled a picture of McGee from his pocket and showed it to Mathew. "Have you seen this man recently?"

Mathew carefully studied the picture and nodded. "He asked about the girls."

"Girls?"

"They rode horses here. Blackjack, Diamond Jim, Maybelle, Maverick and Hazel." He grinned. "Hazel, _not_ Hazmat."

"OK…can you tell me anything about the girls he asked about?"

The smile vanished. "They're with the angels."

"Angels?" Mathew nodded. "Did you tell Agent McGee…this man," he shook the picture slightly for emphasis. "Did you tell him that?" Mathew nodded again. Tony felt a twinge in his gut. "Is…is Agent McGee with the angels?" The puzzled expression returned.

"I don't know..."

"OK." Tony wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or not. "What else did you tell him about the girls?" The puzzlement increased. "OK, never mind. Who did he talk to when he was here?"

"Mama…and Mandy and me. Maybe Michael, too."

"Michael and Mandy?"

"My brother and sister."

"So only your family works here?" Mathew nodded again. "Your father, does he work here?"

Mathew's expression saddened. "He's gone. Mama says he's in heaven."

"With the angels?"

Before Mathew could answer Ziva stepped into view and Tony almost laughed at her shocked expression when she caught sight of the other man.

"Hey, Ziva. This is Mathew. He works here…his family runs the place. Mathew, this is Ziva David. She works with me."

"It is…a pleasure to meet you," Ziva replied as she quickly overcame her initial shock.

A bright, happy smile spread across the giant's face as he gazed down at Ziva. "You're pretty."

"Thank you," she replied, blushing slightly and shooting Tony a dirty look when he grinned at her. "Did, uh, did Tony ask you about our friend? Did you see him?"

"Yes. He was nice. He showed me pictures of girls that rode the horses."

Ziva shot Tony a look and he returned with one that clearly said he'd explain later.

"Did you see him leave?" Mathew nodded. "Which way did he go?"

"The driveway. It goes to the road."

"Did you see which way he went on the road?" Tony asked, hoping to get at least something to tell them where McGee had gone.

"No. I can't see the road from here."

"OK. Thank you for your help, Mathew." He glanced at Ziva and tilted his head towards the door. She nodded.

"You're welcome. You can go see Mama now. She'll say which horses you can ride."

"We are not riding…but thank you," Ziva replied and followed Tony as he left the arena.

"Well?"

"You got most of what I know. McGee was here, talked to the mother about the missing girls, and left. Did you find out anything?"

"Even less, I am afraid. I spoke to the owner's son…_other_ son. He had nothing useful to tell me."

"But?"

She sighed. "He has a temper, and was suspended from school for violence. He seems…protective of his brother, and did not like us being here. If he thought McGee meant him harm…"

"It's pretty thin, but we'd better tell Gibbs. I hope he had more luck."

Gibbs emerged from the office just as Tony and Ziva reached the sedan.

"Anything, Boss?"

"Not about McGee, but he did find a connection between the five missing girls. They were all here at one time. Mrs. Downing didn't notice anything unusual when either McGee or the girls were here."

"So now what?"

"She suggested we go talk to the farrier, Henry Smith. She told McGee that's Smith's the only other person who's here on a regular basis, and he might have gone to talk to him after he left here."

"Better than nothing. Let's go."

XXX

Henry Smith, 'Hank' to his friends, leaned back in his favorite chair and watched the dark, late model sedan approach. He knew a Fed vehicle when he saw one, and wondered just what in the hell they wanted. He waited until the occupants climbed out of the vehicle before calling out to them.

"Help ya?"

The driver, a silver-haired, no-nonsense-looking man, held up his ID, and his companions did the same.

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS." He tilted his head towards the other two. "Agents DiNozzo and David. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Navy cops? Bit far from the ocean, ain't ya?"

"We're looking for one of our agents. He was in this area a couple of days ago, working on a cold case."

"Sorry, haven't seen him. Ain't nobody been out here for a few days, 'specially not another Fed. Why do you think he'd be here?"

"You're the blacksmith for West Falls Stables, correct?"

"Yeah…but I ain't been there for a few days, either. What's this all about?"

"Our agent was looking into some missing persons cases," Agent David replied. "All of the girls who had gone missing had taken riding lessons at the stable."

"And?"

"We were hoping you could tell us if you noticed anything unusual while they were there."

Hank chuckled. "I don't pay no mind to the students. All I care about is the horses. Sorry, can't help ya."

"Do you know of anyone else who might have noticed anything? Either when the girls were there, or when our agent was there two days ago?"

"Can't say that I do."

Agent DiNozzo stepped forward and removed a picture from his jacket pocket. He showed the picture to Hank. "Are you sure you haven't seen this man?"

Hank glanced at the picture. "Nope. Haven't seen him." He watched a silent exchange between the three agents and groaned. "Look, I told ya: nobody's been by. I'm sorry I can't help ya, but I don't know anything about your missing man, or about any missing girls."

"Alright. Thank you for your time."

The agents climbed back in their car and drove off as Hank breathed a sigh of relief. Truth was, he'd been so preoccupied with his own problems, Elvis himself could have paraded through his yard and Hank wouldn't have noticed.

_I picked a hell of a week to quit drinking…_

XXX

Tony slouched in the passenger's seat as Gibbs tore down the road, back towards civilization. The senior agent had managed to push most of his worries to the back of his mind while they had been working the case, but in the tense silence of the sedan, the events of the past two days re-emerged. He could almost see McGee's image on the computer screen, calmly telling his team goodbye. Tony clenched his fists. They never should have had to watch that video. Tim shouldn't be gone. It had been horrible believing, however briefly, that Tim had taken himself from them. But not knowing what had really become of his partner…that was so much worse.

They had passed the turn-off for the stables again, and Tony glanced out the window just in time to register the presence of a faded sign hanging from a post on the side of the road as Gibbs zoomed past. He took a moment to recall what the sign had actually said.

_**Our Lady of the Angels**_

He remembered Mathew's insistence that the girls were "with the angels" and wondered if there was something else behind that statement. He started to ask Gibbs to turn back when the lead agent's phone rang.

"Yeah, Gibbs. What? OK. We'll meet you there." Gibbs expression was grim as he snapped the phone shut.

"What's going on, Boss?"

"State police recovered a body. Duck's gonna meet us there."

Tony glanced back at Ziva and saw his own anguish reflected in her expression. She quickly dropped her gaze and turned away before he could say anything, and he returned his own gaze to the road ahead as grief twisted in his stomach. He was not looking forward to what they might see when they arrived at their destination, but at least, he hoped, maybe they would finally get some answers.

TBC…


End file.
